Untitled
I sit on the floor, my back to the wall,
my knees curled up in front of me.
Grey walls and a black roof surrounded me,
Alone, without real light.
Just me and him, contained in this place.
Shards of glittering black onyx cover the floor,
Some edged with pure ivory or laced with threads of jewels.
In the center of the room, in the middle of the disaster, lay fragments of gold, in pieces.
Everything demolished and spread across the floor.
He holds a straw broom and begins to sweep,
Slow and carefully, to get every sliver, he moves it to the center.
I watch his gentle movements, steps.
He doesn't crush anything or miss a speck or dusting.
“I can fix this,” he says.
The whole room swept into a pile, a heaping
mound of diamond, onyx, ivory, gold, ruby, emerald, priceless... in pieces.
“I had to break it,” he said. “I had to break it so you'd know.”
A clear light from above appeared as a laser
A pin point from outside of the grey room.
The light seared into the heap of broken pieces.
And the brightness shoved me hard against the wall.
My body burned with the heat.
He walked around the light, the heat, the blazing gems to face me.
The firy pile lay between us, the light continuing to pierce the refuse.
“I had to break it to show you it could withstand it,” he said.
My face was red, as though the heat was in my brain, about to burn through.
My eyes streamed rivers and my nose ran waterfalls,
As if in an attempt to douse the burning dust pile.
The light turned red, orange on the edges.
I couldn't see the corners of the room for
the huge shadows the light, flame-less fire created.
“I had to break it to show you my power to be everything,” he said.
My hands ached and cramped. Tendons tensed to the snapping point.
The muscles spasmed, contorting my frame with pain.
My fingers curled, twisted, flailed all at once, disfiguring, frightening, excruciating.
“I had to break it to show you how much I love you,” he said.
My chest exploded as with a brick of C4.
I screamed soundlessly as my rib cage flipped
outward, bent, pointing at the roaring fire.
I thought it was going to kill me.
My chest organs were exposed to the heat
as it grew stronger, cooking my insides.
The fire turned blue and then white.
The broken pieces now danced in the furious heat.
Wind came from nowhere, the wall behind me it seemed.
It circled the room, whipping me and him with a fury, buffeting, our clothes pulling from our skin.
Then the fire swallowed the wind.
It sucked it in as a tornado, roaring. My ear drums popped a hundred times.
Quiet. I opened my eyes.
“I had to break it, to show you it's value,” he said.
He held it in his hand.
It was cracked, but soldered back with silver.
The onyx shell was a beautifully faceted heart.
Within there were pockets of diamond, ruby and veins of ivory.
At the center was a small gold heart, remelted, reshaped, perfect again.
Before I could move, he pushed it into my opened chest,
shoving the ribs down and searing the skin back in place.
I blinked.
“I'll be upstairs if you need me,” he said.
He left by an seamless door in the the wall.
He left it open, revealing a doorway of bright yellow light,
Which streamed into the room, to my very toe tips.
I blinked and sat there.
(freevector.com image)
5/2011
my knees curled up in front of me.
Grey walls and a black roof surrounded me,
Alone, without real light.
Just me and him, contained in this place.
Shards of glittering black onyx cover the floor,
Some edged with pure ivory or laced with threads of jewels.
In the center of the room, in the middle of the disaster, lay fragments of gold, in pieces.
Everything demolished and spread across the floor.
He holds a straw broom and begins to sweep,
Slow and carefully, to get every sliver, he moves it to the center.
I watch his gentle movements, steps.
He doesn't crush anything or miss a speck or dusting.
“I can fix this,” he says.
The whole room swept into a pile, a heaping
mound of diamond, onyx, ivory, gold, ruby, emerald, priceless... in pieces.
“I had to break it,” he said. “I had to break it so you'd know.”
A clear light from above appeared as a laser
A pin point from outside of the grey room.
The light seared into the heap of broken pieces.
And the brightness shoved me hard against the wall.
My body burned with the heat.
He walked around the light, the heat, the blazing gems to face me.
The firy pile lay between us, the light continuing to pierce the refuse.
“I had to break it to show you it could withstand it,” he said.
My face was red, as though the heat was in my brain, about to burn through.
My eyes streamed rivers and my nose ran waterfalls,
As if in an attempt to douse the burning dust pile.
The light turned red, orange on the edges.
I couldn't see the corners of the room for
the huge shadows the light, flame-less fire created.
“I had to break it to show you my power to be everything,” he said.
My hands ached and cramped. Tendons tensed to the snapping point.
The muscles spasmed, contorting my frame with pain.
My fingers curled, twisted, flailed all at once, disfiguring, frightening, excruciating.
“I had to break it to show you how much I love you,” he said.
My chest exploded as with a brick of C4.
I screamed soundlessly as my rib cage flipped
outward, bent, pointing at the roaring fire.
I thought it was going to kill me.
My chest organs were exposed to the heat
as it grew stronger, cooking my insides.
The fire turned blue and then white.
The broken pieces now danced in the furious heat.
Wind came from nowhere, the wall behind me it seemed.
It circled the room, whipping me and him with a fury, buffeting, our clothes pulling from our skin.
Then the fire swallowed the wind.
It sucked it in as a tornado, roaring. My ear drums popped a hundred times.
Quiet. I opened my eyes.
“I had to break it, to show you it's value,” he said.
He held it in his hand.
It was cracked, but soldered back with silver.
The onyx shell was a beautifully faceted heart.
Within there were pockets of diamond, ruby and veins of ivory.
At the center was a small gold heart, remelted, reshaped, perfect again.
Before I could move, he pushed it into my opened chest,
shoving the ribs down and searing the skin back in place.
I blinked.
“I'll be upstairs if you need me,” he said.
He left by an seamless door in the the wall.
He left it open, revealing a doorway of bright yellow light,
Which streamed into the room, to my very toe tips.
I blinked and sat there.
(freevector.com image)
5/2011
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